Mister Lies

A Chicago producer looking to find emotion within trip-hop-inspired electronics.

"The music is not the truth." That's the mantra you're greeted with when heading to the Bandcamp page of Chicago-based producer Mister Lies, who makes the kind of warm, 4 a.m. downtempo electronic music that carries lineage in the work of Burial and Massive Attack. So what is the truth? Mister Lies is 19-year old student Nick Zanca, who's currently studying philosophy and dramatic writing at Chicago's Columbia College.

He originally hails from the suburbs of New Canaan, Conn., where he'll be heading back this summer to work on his debut full-length, which follows up this year's Hidden Neighbors EP and the new collaborative Mass EP with fellow Chicago producer Different Sleep. The Mister Lies LP should see release later this year via indie upstart Lefse (Neon Indian, Youth Lagoon, How to Dress Well). Read on for our conversation with Zanca about how he got into music, his punk-pop past, why he chose to temporarily work anonymously, and where the name Mister Lies comes from.

Pitchfork: What kind of music did you make when you were younger?

Nick Zanca: Back in high school, about two years ago, I was in this silly punk band called Ballet for Athletes. We were all trying to take it seriously, and then I realized that "punk" and "serious" aren't really two words you can put in the same sentence-- at least, in my opinion. The music was completely different shit than the stuff I'm doing now, very poppy.

NZ: When I was around seven years old, Fantasia 2000 had come out in IMAX theaters. Between Christmas and New Year's Day, my family went to see it, and it was awe-inspiring. There was just something about the images and the music working together-- putting whales to "Pines of Rome" and images of New York City to Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue". I decided right then that this was something I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I took four years of violin, but got bored of it-- over the years, I've been ADD with instruments. The only two that I've really stayed true to are guitar and piano.

Pitchfork: In the beginning, you chose to be an "anonymous" artist. Some would say that the guise of anonymity has been done to death at this point.

NZ: It was nothing more than me wanting to make it about the music and not necessarily the image. Of course, you realize later that by going anonymous, there is an image, and it's mysterious. So that kind of backfired. But it also worked to my advantage, since it certainly got people's attention. There are so many artists these days that are trying to imitate other artists and go for a certain style; there's a lot of bullshit in the music industry. I don't want to deviate from anything else other than the music, cause that's why I listen to my favorite records-- not because I like the way the artists dress.

NZ: One of my favorite plays of all time is Tony Kushner's Angels in America. There's a character in it who has this imaginary friend named Mister Lies. My music has to do with imaginary things, so I took that concept and used the whole "the music is not the truth" mantra as a way to market myself.

Pitchfork: You're an American DIY artist making music that primarily has roots overseas in the UK-- how does that affect how you think about your own work and its impact?

NZ: There's all this shit in electronic music about being within the construct of a certain BPM, a certain tempo, a certain feel. There's all these rules, which I never understood. All my favorite artists are downtempo-- Portishead, Burial, a lot of 1990s trip-hop. Some people are saying that I'm trying to help with the trip-hop revival that's possibly going on, but I'm not aware of other artists that are necessarily doing that. But if they are, that's fantastic. It's a great medium of electronic music. There's a lot of emotion-- it's good for soundtracking a late-night drive.